


let me follow

by bl3ssed



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst, Hannibal finding a liking in taking care of Will, M/M, Post Season 3 Finale, hannibal is taking care of Will after the fall
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 08:27:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28740252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bl3ssed/pseuds/bl3ssed
Summary: Hannibal and Will tumble over the edge of the cliff side with Will worse off. Hannibal nurses him back to health.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 3
Kudos: 49





	1. The fall

There is grace in nonconformity. An absolute silence as well. It quiets, and it destroys.  
The moments he stays near him, is the calm in a storm, a respite from life and the constant death. Hannibal is cravable, an itching underneath the skin that can't quite be quenched when he’s out of sight. 

Hannibal holds him, eyes pressed closed. He’s careful not to jostle him much, the wound on his torso pressed dangerously close to his embrace. “It’s beautiful.”  
Will barely catches his smirk, it’s fleeting. Like Hannibal himself, here one moment and gone the next. He can feel his stomach sinking, grasping at the ghost in front of him. He doesn’t know whether to be angry or to simply just be. His uninjured cheek presses against his chest, scrambling to grab hold of something solid.  
Will knows their time is up. His body is growing weaker, and the way Hannibal grasps at him, he knows Hannibal understands that much.  
When he tilts them forward, towards the sea, Hannibal does nothing to stop the inevitable fall. They topple, and Hannibal grasps him. It’s bone crushing, a seeming attempt at conjoning them to make sure Will isn’t separated from him upon impact.  
He can feel the sea air whipping wildly around them. It screams the story of their battle, of their eventual death. It’s a melody, a symphony. Will’s eyes flutter closed with one more image of him. Tears are streaming down Hannibal’s face, and yet he’s smiling.


	2. Chapter 2

One moment he’s falling, the salty ocean air biting at his cut, and the next he’s calf deep in the river. It’s a dream, an imaginary construct of his brain. It’s trying to hold onto what it can in it’s last few moments. Two figures move along the bank, at first his memories trick him, and he thinks it has to be Molly and Walter. 

Hannibal moves to sit in a velvet chair along the embankment, a sketch pad gripped tightly in his grasp. Even though it isn’t supposed to be there, the chair blends in as if it always has. Abigail sits at his feet, speaking to him softly every so often. They both smile, eyes glancing over at him. 

He supposes this has to be some minuscule attempt at creating his own personal heaven. His brain tricking him before the black takes over.

Will takes a deep breath and focuses on the stream, the flow he can feel against his calves. If this is how he’s finally flung into oblivion, calf deep in his favorite stream, his daughter watching and picking at a lunch they had brought, and Hannibal.. Hannibal just existed within his sight, calm, and for once not raising a hand towards him in ill contempt. He could go quiet into the night. 

Will feels himself start to slip away. 

  
  


The fall had affected Hannibal the greatest. He knew that it would, given that he had maneuvered himself to take most of the impact. Will had fallen unconscious, and for a moment Hannibal had thought he had died. The water enveloped around them, and it seemed poetic to be swallowed up by the waves like this. For it to wash away the sins of man, and dispel their insatiable urge for it. Yet, his focus was Will. It had been consistently for the past five years. 

When Will started to slip from his grasp was the moment he realized they were drowning. God, law enforcement and now nature wanted them dead. It was fitting. 

Hannibal was his own god, his own creator. 

Will was easy to pull onto his back, his arms and legs almost instinctively looping themselves around him as he pushed for the surface. His own injuries would have to wait a while. 

When they broke the surface and he gasped for air and Will did not, a panic set within him. There was a cave nearby, known to be a spot where boats were kept by the previous owners of the cottage. With the momentum of another wave crashing towards them, it helped propel Hannibal to a bit of shoreline. Hannibal’s ribs ached, most likely broken. 

He flung Will onto a bank of sand, immediately moving into chest compressions. His fingers were white from the cold shock of the water but they did just fine at pressing his nostrils closed and opening his mouth with his other hand, keeping his fingers pressed over top of the gash in his cheek to prevent air from coming out. It was medical the way his lips touched Will’s and he tried hard not to think of the stirring in his chest. 

Within a few compressions Will was coughing up water and breathing. He did not however gain consciousness, so it seemed to be up to him to get them both to safety. Which for the moment had to be the cave. 

Inside was the aforementioned boat, weather worn, and unused for years. He placed Will down on the deck to inspect the inside. Down beneath the deck was a bed, a trunk full of clothes Hannibal could only think to describe as Welsh fisherman, a couple cabinets full of non-perishables that would expire in the next few months, and a first aid kit. He worked quickly, figuring it would stay warm enough for temporary shelter. Will was lifted bridal style and carried haphazardly into the small bedroom inside. 

Once Hannibal caught his breath he was able to get to work. Will's face was cleaned and stitched up first. It was interesting to see him looking peaceful while he slept- most of the times Hannibal had seen him in a state of unconsciousness he had been plagued with demons of his own creation. They contorted his features into grimaces and looks of desperation. Now, he seemed to be stress free, with smooth, calm and bloodied features. “Let’s finish getting you stitched up.” He’s more so talking to himself than Will, and yet he ached for a reply. 

Scissors were taken to his white button up, his fingers not possessing enough feeling yet to untangle the buttons. Alcohol in his injuries, and sloppily done stitches he would have to finish later. Gauze, wrapped around his torso and face seemed almost too bright against the dimness of the evening. Will was being taken care of well. 

Hannibal redressed him in the dusty but clean clothing, nothing too tight so as to not disturb the stitches and cradled him as he instructed the drinking of water. Once Will had swallowed enough for Hannibal’s liking, he wrapped him up in bed, making a quick progression through treating his own injuries. 

He cleaned himself up, and fell back into the bed beside Will, unconsciousness taking him as well.


	3. Chapter 3

Sunlight streamed in from a hole on the deck, the soft rays adding a sense of comfort to his racing heart. Not many things startled Hannibal. However, Will Graham pressed to his chest in a deep sleep made his heart thunder. “Goodmorning.” His voice came out softer than he anticipated. 

“Goodmorning.” a voice came from the corner, and he moved away from Will to glance up at the intruder. It was Chiyo. She had aged well in the last three years, becoming more beautiful since the last time he had seen her. She sat, on the clothing chest in the corner, gun propped up between her legs. 

“I’m surprised I didn’t hear or sense you enter.” He admitted, groaning as his body stiffened and shifted. 

“You are only human,” she chuckled, eyes glinting. “You suffered injuries and hid in a dark hole like an injured cat.” she opened her bag, offering him a container. “I brought food. Some for the both of you. Passports and disguises for the three of us. I figured you would need them.” She seemed proud of herself. “I know you didn’t have a chance to prepare once you were released.” He smiled, a genuine smile. 

“Smart girl. Did you move the family money to an untraceable Swiss account like I had asked you to?” She nodded, pausing a bit. 

“I made it out like a receipt and transferred most of it. Not all of it. It appears on the bank statement as a small island off the coast of Brazil. If anyone goes looking for you I assume it would be there. I did that years ago.” 

Hannibal nodded in approval. “How did you figure out we were in the cave?” 

“I saw both of you fall, and inspected the shoreline for your bodies. Then there was a trail of blood to follow. I got rid of it, so that’s something you don’t need to worry about either.” He sat on the edge of the bed and winced. Chiyo’s eyes lightened with concern. “You’re bleeding.” 

“I tend to do that a lot where Will is involved.” He admitted, cockily. 

“Take your shirt off and turn around.” he complied willingly, sliding the shirt over his head with a bit of difficulty. His wounds were inflamed, and he knew that if he didn’t get treatment for them soon that they would become infected. Chiyo pulled her hair back into a bun and ripped open a bottle of vodka with her teeth. “It’ll clean your wounds until I can do more.” his teeth ground together as she poured it onto him, thoroughly coating him. His greying hair caught the sweat beading on his forehead, and he gripped the edge of the bed to keep him steady. Will did not stir, his dark hair matting against his face with blood. For once, Hannibal really stopped to admire the curvature of his features. He was angelic, in the way that humans seemed to be. Flawed, and yet ethereal. He would have had art modeled after him if he had lived centuries previous. When Chiyoh started digging into his flesh with the needle, he stayed trained on Will’s face. Taking it in, basking in it, gritting his teeth as the needle passed through him. 

“Has he woken up yet?” 

“No.” 

“Do you think he will?” 

“He seems to survive most of everything, so I would be surprised if this killed Will.” 

“An even match then.” 

“I suppose.” Hannibal let a small smile creep onto his face, pulling his thin shirt back over his head. “Do you know where we’re going?” 

Chiyoh shook her head. “I was leaving that decision up to you. You know where it would be safe for you better than I do.” They could go anywhere. He could take Will virtually anywhere, show him anything. Except maybe Italy- Florence and the surrounding area would have to wait just a little longer. They needed some time in between his show of heartbreak and his resurrection. Canada was close. It was wooded, Will would have a smoother recovery being somewhere that was soothing to him. 

Will. 

It would be Will who would pick, even as indirectly as this. 

“I think Canada will be our next spot. They’ll expect me to flee overseas, and they won’t anticipate Canada will hold much interest to me, being less dignified in the arts than Europe. After that, France, and we’ll go from there.” Chiyoh laughed, and tossed him a protein bar. 

“That does make sense, though I never anticipated that you’d give up aesthetics in your choice. This is a first. “ He didn’t reply, simply looking back at Will. They sat in silence for a while, awaiting the next opportunity, the next moment. “I have a car waiting down the road. We need to hurry before someone accidentally stumbles upon your latest accomplishment. I’ll make sure the coast is clear before having you head up.” 

She started off towards the mouth of the cave, leaving Hannibal to rest for just a moment. He laid back, head grazing Will’s thigh just barely. Electricity buzzed through his skin in the places they touched. 

Chiyoh returned roughly an hour later, helping transport Will to the car. Hannibal followed behind them, glancing once more at the sun reflecting off of the water.


End file.
